


you know I give my love a four letter name

by ohmcgee



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, pretty pretty princess Jay, thiiiiiiiiiiiis is trash don't look at me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-18
Updated: 2015-07-18
Packaged: 2018-04-10 00:19:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4369913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmcgee/pseuds/ohmcgee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(614):</p><p>I want everyone to love me, and THEN I will choose who gets to eat me out all the time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you know I give my love a four letter name

She wakes Bruce up, bouncing on the end of his bed in one of Dick’s old t-shirts that barely comes past her hips and a pair of underwear with the word _BOSS_ printed on the back. 

“Wakey wakey,” she grins, crawling up Bruce’s legs to straddle his waist, taking his hand before he’s even gotten his eyes open and putting it between her thighs, making soft little noises when Bruce’s thumb starts rubbing at her through the thin cotton.

She comes just like that, just from Bruce’s fingers rubbing her through her panties, rocking against him as he slowly wakes, staring up at her with his sleepy eyes, and she laughs when she collapses on top of him and rubs her face against his stubble.

“You were supposed to let me sleep,” he grumbles, glancing at the alarm clock and seeing he’s only been out for two and a half hours.

“Whatever,” Jay says, patting his cheek. “You love me.”

Bruce makes a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat, pulls the covers up and rolls back over, but he doesn’t argue. 

He’s pretty sure she knows.

 

: : :

 

“Thanks,” Jay says when she hops up on the counter, stealing the sandwich Dick made off his plate and taking a bite. She’s dressed now, wearing torn black tights under a pair of cutoff shorts and what looks like Tim’s Superboy shirt, though it’s been cropped off at the middle and Dick can see the little swirl of ink peeking out of her shorts, the tattoo that gave Bruce his first mental breakdown.

“That was mine,” Dick says, meaning it for it to come out stronger, but mostly he just sighs and opens the fridge again, pulls out the turkey and lettuce and mustard to make another sandwich. 

“Yeah but,” Jay says with a mouthful. “I like yours better. You put potato chips on yours. I dig it.”

Dick rolls his eyes as she crunches on the chips. “You could put chips on yours.”

“Nah,” Jay says, swinging her legs back and forth so that her boots scuff the cabinets. She’s lucky Alfred isn’t here, but he’ll still know when he gets back and Jay will spend the next two days scrubbing every cabinet in the kitchen and probably the grout in the tile too. Alfred is pretty much the only one in the house that doesn’t let her get away with everything. Dick’s gotta like, take some pointers or something. “It’s always better when you do it for me,” Jay says and Dick looks up just in time to see her lick the mustard out of the corner of her mouth and wink.

Ten minutes later he’s got his hands on Jay’s waist, the rough tread of her boots digging into his back, and she’s leaving so many hickeys on his neck he wonders if she’s going for some kind of pattern, if she’s trying to suck _Jay was here_ across his skin in red and purple marks.

“Dickie, please?” She asks sweetly, nipping at his ear, and Dick pops open the button on her shorts, slips his fingers right into her because of course -- of _course_ she’s not wearing underwear, kisses her when she comes for him and licks the taste of her off his fingers.

“Sandwich stealer,” he glares after he sets her back down and Jay grins back at him, stands on her tippy-toes and plants a wet kiss on his cheek.

“You know you love me.”

“Get lost, brat,” Dick says, turning around so he can finish his sandwich and hide the stupid grin on his face.

 

: : :

 

“Who else?” Tim says later when he flips open the button on her shorts. They’re in the study and Jay’s back is pressed up against the bookcase, the dusty spines of first editions digging in between her shoulder blades. 

She looks down at Tim and grins. “Bruce,” she says and Tim tugs one side of her shorts off. “And Dickie.” Tim tugs the other side down, just off of her hips, looks up at her. 

“Did either of them do this?”

“Uh-uh,” Jay says, biting her lips as Tim drags her shorts all the way off, slides his hands up her thighs. 

“Good,” Tim says and buries his face in between her thighs, getting the taste of her all over his mouth until Jay is gasping and panting and getting her hands in his hair. “Let’s keep it that way.”


End file.
